The Bed Wife: A Novella (The Bed Wife Chronicles Book 1)

by Suzanna Lynn

  Baylin picked up his uncle by the cuff of his tunic. “You dare touch her.”

  Cadman laughed at his nephew through a bloody lip. “Someone needs to.”

  Baylin balled his fist and sent it flying straight into Cadman’s nose, causing the older man to fall onto the small table, breaking it.

  Several guards and Luana’s other handmaids came running into the room at the sound of the fight.

  “Your Lady needs a change of clothes,” Baylin called to the two handmaids.

  The maids rushed to Luana’s side, throwing a robe around her and ushering her into the private bath.

  “Guards, take her to the dungeon,” Prince Baylin commanded, pointing at the handmaiden who had betrayed Luana. As the guards pulled her out of the room, she cried for Lord Cadman who was still in a half-naked, unconscious mound on the ground amid the broken pieces of the glass and wood.

  Baylin strode over to his uncle and kicked him in the side. “Get up!”

  The old Lord groaned as he attempted to get up in the shards of the broken glass. Baylin’s impatience grew thin and he grabbed his uncle by the tunic, dragging him to his feet.

  “You dare enter my chambers without my permission?” Baylin yelled while holding his uncle by the back of the neck. “You dare abuse Luana?”

  “I did it for you, dear nephew,” Cadman lied through crooked teeth. “The bed wife meant to humiliate you in front of the whole Kingdom!”

  “So you felt the only way to compensate was to take her for your own?” he boomed as he dragged his bleeding uncle to the chamber door. He shoved Cadman out the door as he shouted, “Do not take me for the fool!”

  Baylin stared at the door in silence as his anger continued to boil. He glowered as he thought to himself. He could not remember a time when he liked his uncle, but he was certain he had never hated him more than that very moment.

  After forcing Baylin to shun Luana when they were children, Baylin had held no affection for Cadman. However, his mistrust was solidified when he was thirteen.

  As next in line for the throne, King Ashmur insisted that Baylin was a King in training and needed to be taught and molded at a young age.

  Baylin had spent the day practicing shooting a bow from horseback with an instructor his uncle had brought in. Having finished his lessons and brushing down his horse, Baylin headed up a stairway to his chamber for a bath when he overheard his uncle’s voice coming from the hallway above.

  The long halls of the castle caused whispers to echo off the stone walls and become shouts, especially his uncle’s baritone voice.

  Cadman had been arguing with someone. “I give you one task and now you are having second thoughts?”

  “I’m sorry, my Lord Cadman,” a man with a familiar voice said in a nervous tone.

  There was a pause of silence. Baylin had been scared to move for fear that his footsteps might be heard.

  Cadman continued. “This Kingdom has suffered under a soft ruler for far too long. It takes a firm hand to raise an empire; this Kingdom should be mine.”

  “Yes, my Lord,” the other man agreed.

  Baylin was confused. “What does he mean the Kingdom should be his? Father is the King,” he thought.

  “If you’re concerned you will be implicated, don’t worry,” Cadman whispered. “It’s easy enough to make it look like an accident. The boy is still new to fighting, particularly on horseback.”

  Baylin felt sick. “He’s talking about me,” Baylin realized. He could not believe what he was hearing, even as each word was uttered.

  “But, my Lord, how can killing the boy gain you the crown?” the other man’s spoke loudly.

  “Shh!” Cadman hissed. “You idiot! Do you want to have us both hanged?”

  “I’m sorry, my Lord,” the man said mournfully.

  “We have been over this,” Cadman continued in a whisper. “If my brother dies first, his little brat inherits the throne. At that point he will be untouchable. The Queen will have him surrounded by more guards than ever, and the Kingdom would become extremely suspicious if he died following his father’s death. However, should he encounter an accident and die now, the King will have no heir. And who could be suspicious of the kind hearted King taking ill and dying of grief at the loss of his son?”

  Cadman’s hushed laughter made Baylin’s blood boil. But before he had time to process all he had witnessed, he heard footsteps slowly descending the stairs from above.

  Baylin had to think quickly. He backtracked down the stairs silently. He then walked back up the stairs, like before, as though he were merely headed to his room.

  “Nephew!” Cadman greeted with false enthusiasm as he came into view. “Master Johan here tells me you are doing excellent in your lessons.”

  Baylin was so shocked. He was certain his face had betrayed what he had overheard. The other man who was conspiring to kill him and his father was his own combat instructor. The young Prince felt a flush of confusion and anger. All he could do was nod to acknowledge Lord Cadman.

  “Excellent, most excellent,” Cadman said with forced affection. “Do be careful though, dear nephew. Even practice warfare can be dangerous.”

  Baylin tried hard to control the anger in his voice. “I will be sure to watch my back.”

  Cadman’s expression turned slightly suspicious.

  Baylin knew if he wanted to warn his father, he could not draw attention. “Thank you, Uncle, for providing Master Johan to instruct me. He has been most…informative.”

  Cadman looked back and forth between Baylin and Master Johan suspiciously. “Well, yes. That’s good. I’m… I’m most pleased.”

  Baylin gave a slight bow. “Uncle, do please excuse me. I must wash up for supper.”

  Cadman returned a bow, all the while attempting to hide the suspicion that was written all over his face.

  Baylin quickly left the pair, ascended the stairs and headed to his chamber. He hastily washed up and ran the whole way to his parents’ chamber.

  Baylin felt his rage fueled hotter as he recalled the memory. His anger was not only directed at his uncle, though, he was angry with his father as well.

  He had gone to his father and relayed what he had overheard, only to be disregarded as a young boy with an active imagination. His father had insisted that he had misunderstood his uncle, and that his words were only those of worry for Baylin’s well-being.

  However, Baylin could not forget the untimely death of Master Johan that very next morning. It had been ruled an accident, a broken neck as a result of a terrible fall from horseback. Baylin had known it was Cadman’s way of tying up loose ends.

  Now Cadman’s tertiary was being unloaded on Luana. I will not let him do this, not to her. I’m not a boy anymore.

  Baylin was pulled from his thoughts at the tinkle of the glass fragments being moved behind him. He turned to see the two handmaids sweeping up the numerous shards of the broken mirror.

  “Where is she?” he demanded.

  “Your Grace, the young miss is in the bath, if it pleases you,” one of the maids said.

  The other maid continued, “Milady is not badly hurt, but felt she needed to be cleaned.”

  “Leave us. I will have that taken care of later,” he commanded.

  The maids bowed and left the room swiftly.

  Baylin made his way across the bedchamber, looking at the ruins of the mirror and table. Under a large piece of glass sat a shred of Luana’s dress. As Baylin knelt down and picked it up, he fought to hold back the pain and sadness the small piece of fabric caused.

  He slowly made his way to the private bath, where he heard water being swished about as Luana bathed.

  He looked in and could see she was crying softly, scrubbing her skin as if she wanted to remove it.

  “Please don’t,” he said, quickly moving to the side of the tub and grabbing her hands.

  She looked up at him with teary eyes, taking small quick breaths as she tried to hold in her sobs.

&nbs
p; “Please, let me.” He took the cloth from her hand. He began gently washing her arms and hands.

  Baylin then stood, slowly removing his boots and tunic. He slipped into the warm water, trousers still on, and quietly pulled Luana to him, cradling her in his arms.

  Cupping his hand, he leaned her head back and let the water flow over her long silken hair that had been stained crimson from the scrape at her temple. He gently washed away the color, taking delicate care not to cause her further pain.

  Luana looked up into Baylin’s eyes; his heart ached at the sadness reflected on her face.

  As he gently washed her, Luana began to cry. Baylin held her tight against him as she softly wept into his neck.

  They stayed in the bath until the water was nearly cool before he raised her from the tub and wrapped her in a white linen cloth. He carried her from the bath to the bed in the chambers and laid her beneath several furs to warm her.

  As he walked away she whispered to him. “Please don’t go.”

  He slowly turned, unsure if he had heard her correctly. She was sitting up in the bed with her hand reached out to him. “Please,” she murmured.

  Baylin stared at her for a few moments, considering the situation. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and hold her. However, he didn’t want to overstep his bounds and cause her to push away.

  “Please,” she pleaded.

  He nodded, removed his wet trousers and crawled into the bed next to her. He wrapped his arms around her lovingly.

  The feeling of Luana in his arms was the most wonderful thing Baylin had felt. She was precious to him, and he would die to protect her if needed. He didn’t want her for his bed wife; he never had. He just wanted her, totally and completely.

  He looked down into Luana’s emerald green eyes as she reached out and touched his bottom lip softly with her fingertips. He leaned into her slowly and brushed his lips tenderly against hers, unsure if he should. Finally, after two months of living side by side, she pulled down her walls. She tilted her head back and he leaned into the kiss.

  It was not the first time Baylin had ever kissed a woman, but he could not shake the feeling of nerves within him as he did it. Her lips were soft and slightly sweet like honey. He dared to take the kiss a bit further and slid his tongue between her lips, just for a moment, caressing her tongue with his own. She responded by leaning into him. Baylin did not want to take the kiss too far just yet, so he pulled away slowly.

  She searched his eyes, unknowing. “My Prince?”

  “Sleep now,” he whispered gently as he stroked her face. “Close your eyes and sleep for me.”

  Chapter Nine

  The next morning’s events came as no surprise to Luana. King Ashmur had summoned Prince Baylin and her immediately. Lord Cadman had gone and reported the treatment his nephew had given him. Luana feared, not only for herself, but for Baylin as well. Will he be punished for having sympathy for a worthless bed wife?

  Her faithful handmaid, who Luana had learned was named Meg, dressed her in a fine violet gown with gold swirled embroidery. Luana liked the girl. Unlike the other handmaid, Meg was sweet and tended to be very chatty. Luana understood what it was like to feel as though you have no control of your life, and she could sympathize with the girl.

  Meg fashioned Luana’s long blonde hair in the traditional braids, but allowed a few strands to wisp around her face. Baylin, who had gone to speak with Ferric, entered the room just as she had finished. He gazed at Luana with longing eyes.

  A slight smile breezed across his lips. “You look lovely.”

  Luana could not help but look away as she blushed. “Thank you, Your Grace.” There was such sincerity to his words, and it was hard to imagine them real. He reached out for her and she walked to him. Placing his hand at the small of her back, he led her out of the room. They weaved through various halls and numerous stairways before they had finally reached the King’s council chamber.

  The chamber was beautifully decorated in rich indigo blue and had silver tapestries adorning the walls. In the center of the room was a great table, so long as to seat at least a hundred men comfortably. To the far right there was a large balcony like that in the bedchamber, only much more massive.

  As she looked to her left, she saw them the King and Queen of Grasmere sitting on their high seats of honor.

  Luana had never glimpsed the King before the night she was chosen to be Baylin’s bed wife. Very few in the villages had. Baylin and his uncle were generally the only members of the royal family seen outside the castle.

  King Ashmur was an older, handsome man with white flowing hair falling down his back. His beard was just as long. However, it was fashioned into a braid, adorned with gold jeweled baubles. He had a strong jawline and the same piercing blue eyes as the Prince. Luana could see how Baylin could be his son.

  It was Queen Valasca who caught Luana’s attention the most. Her beauty was beyond compare. She was several years younger than the King. Her long raven hair fell down past her waist and contained a few soft white streaks that traveled down the length, gleaming in the light cast by the sunrise. Her smiling violet eyes seemed to pierce the soul, as though she was reading every thought in Luana’s mind.

  “Lord Father. Mother.” Baylin spoke with a slight bow of the head.

  Luana followed suit, giving a curtsey and keeping her eyes low. She did not dare speak unless spoken to.

  “So this is the reason your uncle is in such a foul mood, is it?” King Ashmur grumbled. His voice was gravelly though it reflected a slightly amused tone.

  “Aye, I suppose she is,” Baylin replied with a smirk.

  “And why have you not yet laid with your bed wife? Do you find her unsatisfactory? Does she not arouse you?” King Ashmur’s words were blunt. The sound of them stung Luana’s heart.

  “Not at all, Father,” Baylin defended. “I merely do not feel it necessary to force her to give me a son. These are old ways, ways that were defined long ago. We need not be the barbarians that the traditions have made us out to be.”

  Luana looked at Baylin with the open eyes of surprise. Did he really just say that? Did he really just defend me by rebuking the traditions of the Kingdom?

  “You spit on your forefathers, do you?” The slimy voice of Lord Cadman came from behind them. “Have you no honor at all, boy?”

  Luana turned quickly to face him and could not help but move closer to Baylin in fear. She was glad for the strong protective arm he wrapped around her waist.

  Cadman wore the wounds of the previous night’s encounter. His nose was red and swollen, both eyes were black and he bore the long scratches that she had given him on his right cheek.

  “More honor than a man willing to rape a woman!” shouted Baylin. He placed Luana behind him, shielding her from his uncle’s gaze.

  “I was doing you a service, boy. The whole Kingdom knows you have not yet lain with her,” Cadman hissed. “Is this what Grasmere has to look forward to? A King too scared to bed a woman?”

  Baylin started to lunge forward at Cadman, but Luana clung to his arm.

  Cadman drew his sword as he took heavy steps toward Baylin. His angry grimace was enough to tighten Luana’s stomach in knots.

  “Enough!” commanded a voice Luana was unfamiliar with. She looked up to see Queen Valasca standing at the foot of the throne. “You dare draw your sword in anger in the presence of your King?”

  Lord Cadman looked at his sword and glared at the Queen. “I will not have this boy lecture me on my rights and the traditions of this Kingdom. That bed wife should have a baby in her belly or be cast out of the Kingdom.”

  “My son has the right, as the heir to this Kingdom, to do as he pleases,” Queen Valasca barked as she made her way to confront Lord Cadman.

  Luana was shocked by what was taking place before her. While King Ashmur sat quietly on his throne, observing the confrontation, it was the Queen who was at the defense of Prince Baylin. How could this be?

&n
bsp; The hostility of Queen Valasca must have hit its mark, for Cadman sheathed his sword and bowed. “My apologies, Your Grace.”

  Lord Cadman stomped from the room as Queen Valasca walked over to the young couple. She stretched out a hand and tilted Luana’s chin up. “What is your name, dearest?”

  “Luana, my Queen,” she fumbled. She was using all her strength to keep from shaking.

  “She truly is lovely, Baylin,” the Queen said to her son while smiling warmly down at Luana.

  “Yes, yes, very lovely,” the King sputtered as he rose from his throne. “Now, Baylin, you lay with her and give us an heir. Neither she, nor the Kingdom, will be safe until she has your son in her belly.”

  The Queen looked up at her husband. “Ashmur, you need not be so callous. It is obvious he cares for the young lady.”

  Ashmur nodded impatiently. “Yes, but this is all folly. Weighing his feelings for a bed wife is pointless. He needs to concentrate on finding the future Queen.”

  The words were like a blow to the face to Luana. Baylin’s future Queen. Though she knew all along that it would eventually happen, it had never been so plainly in front of her face. Luana began to feel dizzy and nauseated. She wished they would finish so she could go back to her room – her prison.

  “Father…” Baylin began.

  “Enough,” the King commanded. “I want no more of this nonsense. These are the traditions, and we will keep to them as we always have. She is a very sweet thing, and I can see how you could become attached to her, but your duty is to this Kingdom, and the Kingdom needs you to marry a Princess.”

  “Your Grace,” Baylin said through clenched teeth. Luana could tell he was upset. Prince Baylin placed his hand at Luana’s elbow and guided her from the room.

  Luana realized her resistance had reached its breaking point. King Ashmur’s words may have come across in kindness, but they were still a royal order. She was going to have to give the Kingdom an heir, and soon.

  Chapter Ten